


Scenes from a Hat

by TheRealDanniX



Series: Adventures in Mind Reading [6]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Found Family, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon's Parent, Jaskier | Dandelion is Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon's Parent, M/M, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24046093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealDanniX/pseuds/TheRealDanniX
Summary: Several stories from the mind-reading verse that didn't make it into the other stories, but I thought y'all would like. They're less edited than the other parts. Context will be given at the beginning of each chapter.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Adventures in Mind Reading [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1702603
Comments: 28
Kudos: 396





	1. Purple Haze Post Credits

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if y'all have prompts for this verse and I'll see what I can do.
> 
> Drop a kudos or comment if you're enjoying these little stories. 
> 
> Each chapter will have CW in the notes and the scenes will not be chronological order, just the order they're written in.
> 
> CH 1 CW: talk of Character death (no one dies!)

_After Purple Haze:_

Hours later, as the sun was setting, Jaskier sat across from Yennefer with a crackling fire in between them. Normally, he would be chattering or composing or practicing, but he couldn’t bring himself to. _“All right Jaskier.”_

“Stop staring at me and ask your questions, bard,” Yennefer huffed.

“I don’t understand why you don’t care.”

“I have spent the last several months with you. I know that you don’t abuse your curse, that you can’t really control it, that you would rather be tortured than give up anything about your dear Witcher, that it now extends to both Ciri and myself. Why would I care about being included in your curse?” Her violet eyes were fixed on him.

“As much as I appreciate hearing you compliment me, which you definitely just did, you know that’s not what I was referring. I’m a siren, and you don’t seem to care.”

“Should I?” She raised an eyebrow.

_“Silly bird.”_

“Most people do,” Jaskier pointed out.

She shrugged. “I am not most people. Jaskier, I have known you for years. If you have never used your Voice on me in all that time, why would you start now? If anything, it makes you less of a liability. Your Witcher may disagree, but if he does, I’ll deal with it. Your parents don’t change who you are.” An image flashed through his mind of a curved spine, a pigpen, and four marks. Jaskier frowned, watching Yennefer closely. “Calm down, you silly bird.”

“Yen,” Jaskier started carefully. “We are traveling to a Witcher’s keep. Geralt may be nice enough to ignore the fact that I’m not human, but the other Witcher’s may not be. Would you still stand by me?”

_“In a heartbeat.”_

She waved her hand dismissively. “If necessary, though I doubt it will be. You said that Geralt knew you weren’t human. I’m sure he’ll warn them ahead of time.”

“We are talking about the same Witcher? He didn’t even tell you about my curse.”

“It will be fine, Songbird. If he doesn’t, Ciri and I will keep you safe.” She smirked. “Or you could just Sing them into submission. You have a very powerful Voice.”

“I will not be using it again unless I have to,” he snapped

“I know. You didn’t use it to escape. You could have shifted and torn apart your captors last night and last winter easily, yet you didn’t. You could have died, but you still didn’t use your voice until I was in danger too. Tell me something bird, if I had not been there, would you have let yourself drown before shifting?” She tilted her head, her face a mask of indifference. Jaskier didn’t answer, which served as an answer anyways.

_“Oh, little bird, never do that again.”_

“Jaskier, promise me that you will fight to keep yourself alive with every tool you have available. It will be necessary again. You cannot hold back because you worry that you’ll lose your Witcher. If you do, then we will lose you, and I don’t believe our dear little lion cub could take losing another parent.” Yennefer rose and walked to her tent. “I don’t think I could take losing you either. So, fight for us next time.” Then she disappeared inside, leaving Jaskier alone with his thoughts. He could still hear her thoughts, muddled and twisting as she prepared for bed.


	2. Between the Scenes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: None! Just some domestic fluff.

_Between Many Forms and Purple Haze:_

Jaskier could hear the giggle long before he saw Ciri round come bounding into the house. She was soaking wet, trailing water and mud as she dove at him. _“Hide me Jask!”_ She pulled him out of his chair and held him in front of her like a shield. The hulking form of his Witcher appeared like a shadow in the doorframe. He was also soaking wet and covered in mud. He barred his teeth, letting out a growl.

_“Move little lark. The cub deserves this.”_ The tone of Geralt’s though was jovial though his face was still very angry looking.

“What are you two doing?” Jaskier demanded, trying to move away from Ciri only to be gripped tightly from behind.

_“Stay still Jask!”_ Ciri thought, giggling too hard to actually say anything. Yellow eyes followed them as she tried to steer them away from Geralt.

“If I am to be used as a shield by a waterlogged cub, I’d like to know why!” Jaskier squawked as Geralt made a grab for the girl.

“Jaskier,” he growled.

_“She knows what she did.”_

“But I don’t!” Jaskier tried to pry the child’s hands apart, but only found himself held tighter.

“What is going on here?” Yennefer snapped, emerging from her study. “And why are you all covered in mud?” Ciri giggled harder, losing her grip on the bard as she collapsed on herself. Jaskier stepped away, feeling particularly annoyed with the state of his clothing after the muddy embrace. The second Ciri was separated from Jaskier, Geralt lunged forward and lifted the girl from the ground. He slung her over his shoulder like a sack of flour. There was a nearly imperceptible smirk on his face as he stalked from the house again.

_“Help me, Papa!”_ Ciri wiggled in his grasp, still giggling. Jaskier felt his heart sore as green eyes sought him out.

_“Revenge will be sweet,”_ the Witcher thought. Yennefer looked at Jaskier, exasperated.

“How are you the adult?” she sighed. “What exactly did Ciri do?”

“I don’t know,” Jaskier muttered back. “She wasn’t exactly in the mood to explain things as she ran from an angry mud wolf. Nor was Geralt. If you’ll excuse me, I need to change into something dry since I’m not an animal.”

“Tell the wolves that they’re cleaning this room,” Yennefer snapped.


	3. Siren Reveal to Geralt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Attempted Kidnapping, minor violence

_After Purple Haze, before the mind of the Pack:_

They met at the last town before the keep. Ciri and Geralt had arrived two days ahead of Yennefer and Jaskier and had spent the time preparing for the hard trek up the mountain. The cold was setting in and the Witcher knew that snow would be falling on the path to Kaer Morhen soon. When Jaskier and Yennefer rode into town, it was clear that something had changed. But it was late, and they’d have to start early the next morning. Jaskier would surely explain it on their way up the mountain or at the inn that night. Ciri was waiting for them at the tavern, and, when she saw Jaskier and Yennefer, she bounded up to them, pulling them both into tight hugs. Jaskier returned the embrace wholeheartedly. Yennefer, on the other hand, acted a little annoyed, but Geralt caught the small smile she had once Ciri’s back was turned. Jaskier and Ciri chatted while Yennefer bought the food. Sometime later, a barmaid recognized the bard and begged him to play. He agreed and he went about singing and dancing. Ciri watched him with wide eyes, sitting beside his lute case.

“She’s never seen him actually perform before has she?” Yennefer asked quietly.

“He used to play for her in Cintra. She probably hasn’t heard it since then,” Geralt conceded.

“He’s in his element.” She looked at him pointedly.

The White Wolf sighed. “If you have something to say, say it.”

“You know he’s not human.” Yennefer’s voice was barely above a whisper, quiet enough that even Ciri, who was sitting on the chair beside her, couldn’t have heard her. Geralt nodded, letting his gaze wander to his bard. “Did you bother to tell the other witchers that?”

“I can’t tell them that without explanation.” His voice had to be louder so that Yennefer could hear him, but thankfully, the princess was absorbed in Jaskier’s performance.

“You don’t know what he is.”

“It doesn’t matter.” And it really didn’t. Whatever Jaskier was, he was the White Wolf’s bard first. He had never been a threat, had never tried to attack anyone, never made any indication that he was violent. (Except for the occasions where he started bar fights over insults hurled at the Witcher, fights that only ever involved fists, loud insults in return, and, on rare occasions, a lute being raised.) Yennefer eyed him oddly before nodded and relaxing back in her chair.

“Oh, and you should know that his curse extends to me now,” she said absently, at normal volume. “The little bird has a very big heart.” Geralt nodded. Ciri had joined Jaskier as he settled onto a table, his makeshift stage, to play while he sang a slow ballad about a prince losing his way home and fighting off the horrors that lurked in the woods. “Geralt, I know you haven’t told the other wolves that your bard isn’t human. It could be a problem when we get to the keep.” She fixed him with another glare, and he let her have his attention as he scowled at her. Jaskier took back his lute and started another song, a little more upbeat. “Ciri and I can easily be explained. We are both tied to you in some way, but the bird isn’t. The only ties he has are the ones he’s chosen to make. Will your wolves be as understanding as you?”

“Vesemir will and he’s the only one who will matter. He can keep Lambert and Eskel in line if they don’t like it,” Geralt growled.

“And the others?” Yennefer tilted her head a bit. The music had stopped.

“There are no others.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier said approaching the table. He was frowning and smelled distinctly of worry. Not the joy that normally followed a performance. “Where did Ciri go? She was heading here when I started that song, but I turned around and she was gone.” Geralt cursed himself and Yennefer as they all scanned the tavern intently. Yennefer’s hand shot across the table and grip Geralt’s arm.

“The door,” she hissed, already moving. But Jaskier, who was already up, had disappeared into the crowd, rushing for the door. Geralt and Yennefer followed, but they weren’t as skilled at moving around a crowd as the bard was. Geralt heard Ciri yelling as they emerged onto the street. He followed the noise, and Jaskier’s smell, to an alley. The bard seemed to have only gotten there.

“Ciri cover your ears!” The bard growled. The three men holding her sneered at him. Then a haunting Song came from the bard and the men froze. Geralt did too, stunned by the music. Behind him, Yennefer was having no such trouble and two daggers buried themselves in two of the men. Ciri twisted out the grasp of the last man, keeping her ears covered as she ran towards Jaskier. Another blade bloomed from the last man’s chest and the Song stopped. Jaskier wrapped Ciri into a tight hug, tucking her head into his shoulder as he sank to his knees in front of her.

“A lot of good you were, Witcher,” Yennefer snapped stepping around him as he stared at his bard and his cub. Nearly invisible scales shimmered in the moonlight when Jaskier let Ciri go. Yennefer put a hand on his shoulder, and the bard looked up, his eyes glowing slightly.

_“He’s a siren,”_ Geralt thought. Several other thoughts layered over each other in his mind, confused and a little hurt. Jaskier flinched a bit, and the Witcher cleared his thoughts, focusing only on one. _“It’s okay Jask.”_

“I’m glad you think so. And, to be fair, I assumed you’d figure it out before I ever had to tell you.” Jaskier shrugged. He hesitated, turning to Ciri. “And I was planning on telling you at Kaer Morhen, little cub.”

“Thanks, Papa,” Ciri mumbled, burying her head into his shoulder again. Jaskier hugged her, still looking at the Witcher. His eyes faded back to the cornflower blue that Geralt was familiar with. The Witcher sighed and raised an eyebrow.

_“How long have you been ‘Papa’?_ ” Jaskier beamed up at him.

“Come here Ciri. Let’s go back to the inn. Jask and Yen can go get his lute,” Geralt sighed.

“Shit. My lute.” Jaskier bolted to his feet, releasing Ciri and running back towards the tavern. Yennefer rolled her eyes.

“He’s a silly bird, but I’m glad he’s not scared to use all of his weapons,” Yennefer smirked, then turned to follow their bard.


	4. The Bath Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Angst, reference to dying/letting oneself die
> 
> Not the bath scene you wanted, but the one you're getting while I work on fixing what Vesemir broke. We'll get there.

_During Chapter 3 of The Mind of the Pack_

As soon as Yennefer left her room, Ciri slipped back out. She didn’t understand much of what was happening, but she was sure it was just like the stuff the other Witchers had been doing to Jaskier. Every night Jaskier would insist that it wasn’t a problem, but it still irritated the lion cub. The Witchers were nice enough to Ciri and Yennefer. It didn’t make sense for them to be so cold with Jaskier. Ciri made her way back to the main part of the keep in time to see Geralt disappearing down the stone stairs to the baths. She could hear one of the wolves shouting in the dining area. She saw Yennefer stalking towards that room. She made the quick decision to follow Geralt, sprinting after him. She didn’t bother to keep her distance, knowing he had likely heard her coming. “ _Where’s Papa?”_ she thought. Her question was answered when she got close enough and could see two blue scaled wings jutting out from the person wrapped in Geralt’s arms. “Papa!” she yelled, running to catch up with the Witcher. Geralt hummed at her presence, but Jaskier didn’t react, just curling closer to Geralt. When they got to the baths, he eased the siren into the water. Jaskier twisted away from his hands, surging to the bottom of the pool.

“Come here,” Geralt said, reaching a hand out to Ciri. Ciri took it and let herself be pulled against her Dad’s chest. They both watched the water, waiting for Jaskier to emerge. Yennefer joined them after a while, angrier than Ciri had ever seen her. She sat beside them, shaking and glaring at the water. The mage took several steadying breaths before leaning over the water with searching eyes.

“Jaskier,” she said. “Come on. I know you can hear us. You know we don’t care what you look like.” Her raven-colored hair brushed the water. Geralt’s free hand gripped her shoulder, keeping her from going into the pool. Ciri didn’t understand why Yennefer looked so concerned. Surely the old Witcher hadn’t done anything too bad to Jaskier. Geralt had said they would be safe here.

 _“Papa, are you okay?”_ Ciri blinked her tears away, watching the water and clinging to her Witcher.

“Jaskier, I can’t tell them. You need to explain because I can’t.” Yennefer’s voice was shaking. Her hands were fists at her sides. “Little bird, please come up.” It was with a start that Ciri saw the tears tracing Yennefer’s cheeks. Geralt tensed behind her, clearly unsure what Yennefer was referring to. All of that faded when two glowing blue eyes emerged from the shadows of the pool.

“Papa!” Ciri exclaimed. Before Mage or Witcher could react, she was in the pool and Jaskier was surging up to catch her. “You’re okay,” she muttered, once she was held in shaking webbed hands against the siren’s chest. Jaskier silence was telling.

“Jask, talk to us,” Geralt said. Jaskier shook his head fiercely. He set Ciri back on the side of the pool and floated back away from them. Ciri had never seen his full siren form before, and she had always thought that Jaskier was pretty, but she thought he looked even prettier than normal. He had shimmering blue scales that caught the candlelight every time he moved. Not only did his eyes glow, but they were a little bigger, highlighted by the trail of scales running up his cheekbones. He had three gills on either side of his neck, and she could see them working. His wings were pressed tightly against his back, a deeper shade of blue than his other scales. They were twitching every so often like his hands did when he was nervous. Speaking of his hands, the thin callused fingers were connected with webbing, clearly made for swimming quickly. She could just see his other fins and his tail, flicking back and forth under the water, glittering as it did. Ciri chose to ignore the talons that had formed in place of his fingernails or the almost fanged teeth that pressed into his lip.

“Little bird, tell me what’s wrong,” Yennefer said. She pressed a hand to her own temple like she did when she wanted Jaskier to pay attention to her thoughts. Jaskier frowned at her but nodded. She let out a wet chuckle a moment later. “You won’t hurt us, silly bird, but I can’t tell them why.” Geralt reached for the bard, but he pulled back.

“Jask,” he said. He sounded pained.

“Papa, you’re okay right?” Ciri felt tears in her own eyes.

“ _You can’t be hurt. I can’t lose you too.”_ Jaskier jerked towards her, taking her hands in his.

“I’m okay little lion cub,” he said. His voice sounded strange. More musical somehow. Less human. Laced with magic. It didn’t bother Ciri, and she squeezed his hands tightly. His glowing eyes turned to Yennefer. “How long?”

“Not long. Two hours at most. The old wolf was a fool,” Yennefer said. Her voice turned cold. Geralt bristled a bit but didn’t respond. Jaskier looked up at him.

“I, I should explain,” he whispered. He was close enough that Yennefer gripped his wrist. They shared a moment that neither Lion nor Wolf was privy to. “I’m not mad at Vesemir. I’m really not, and I’m sorry that I worried you. I don’t like shifting. That’s why I went so deep. I didn’t want you lot to see me like this.” His voice shook but the magic didn’t waver. Geralt slipped onto the steps that lead into the pool, heedless of his own clothing. He took Jaskier’s shoulders and pulled him back until they were flush against each other. Ciri and Yennefer moved with them, keeping their hold on their bard.

“ _Keep talking Papa.”_ Jaskier smiled at her gently. He was shaking a little less.

“You don’t have to keep going,” Geralt rumbled. He wrapped his arms around Jaskier, holding him in place.

“I need to. So that you understand why Yenna’s so pissed and why I reacted the way I did.” Jaskier took a steadying breath. “My mother forced me to shift. While we were traveling, she found me and cornered me and forced me to shift. She used to make me shift when I was young. She’d make me use my Voice on people. After I left, I promised that I would never shift or use my voice again. Not unless there wasn’t another option.” Jaskier looked over at Yennefer. She had a burning look in her eyes. “Maybe not even then.” Ciri didn’t understand it, but that made Geralt tighten his hold on the bard.


	5. Jaskier POV of Loving his wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No CW. Just fluff!

_Chapter 5 Mind of the Pack  
_ _Eskel and Lambert are loved; Jaskier’s POV_

Jaskier settled in the empty room that may have once been a classroom of sorts. He spread his notes over the floor and pulled his lute from its case. Eskel joined him a few minutes later, leaning against the wall near him, just watching and listening like he always did. The storm outside beat winds against the keep, nearly masking Lambert’s footsteps as he settled outside the room, listening. Jaskier paid them no mind, muttering under his breath as he worked through his latest ballad. He was working on a verse about the scarred wolf, a story of bravery and heroics and deep kindness, when he heard it.

_That’s not exactly how it happened._ It was Eskel’s voice. Jaskier had enough practice by this point to recognize the difference between a thought and a spoken comment. A slight shift of tone that happened in one’s own mind where no one could hear. Well, normally. Jaskier tensed, against his better judgment. He looked up at Eskel who frowned at him. _Fuck._

“You okay, bard?” Eskel asked. Before Jaskier could answer, another voice chimed it.

_Did he freeze or something?_ Lambert peered around the doorway, and Jaskier realized that he was gripping his lute like a shield in front of him.

“What’d you do to him?” Lambert snapped. Shit. If either of them realized what was happening, there was no way to tell how they’d react. Jaskier pushed back, pressing against the wall, putting distance between himself and the wolves.

“I didn’t touch him,” Eskel snarled back.

Lambert rolled his eyes. _Like that’s going to help calm the bird down._

“Sure, you didn’t.” Lambert moved closer, yellow eyes scanning Jaskier.

“Shut it. Jaskier, are you okay?”

Eskel tilted his head, like a wolf trying to hear better. _If Geralt smells him like this, we’re all gonna get hurt._ Jaskier fixed his stare on Eskel. He was right of course. Geralt would be pissed if he caught a whiff of Jaskier’s fear. Jaskier steadied his breathing, counting as he went, forcing himself to relax. Eskel’s eyes got wide. His mouth opened some, but nothing came out. _Did he hear me?_ Jaskier saw the tension on the other’s face before he looked away, fixing his eyes on the ground. He nodded. He felt Lambert looking between them.

_What’s happening? Shit. Is it hurting Esk too?_ Lambert’s thoughts had such a gentle tone compared to how he talked, but his thought was drowned out by the swirling thoughts building in Eskel.

_He can hear which means he loves me. How can he care for me? How is he doing that? Why? It doesn’t make sense._ Eskel’s thoughts swirled further layering on top of each other. Jaskier let his lute fall and surged towards the wolf. He cupped his face gently, forcing cat eyes to look at him. The noise of the thought’s hurt, but the confusion in his friend’s eyes hurt more.

“Focus on something. One thought, please,” Jaskier said as gently as he could. “Like meditating.” Slowly the thoughts quieted settling on one line, repeating slowly like a mantra.

_I don’t mind._ Jaskier let his hands fall and sat back on his heels. One wolf taken care of. He let a small smile form before he looked up at Lambert. None of the younger witcher’s thoughts were clear enough to focus on, though his chaos was quieter than Eskel’s, it was no less distracting and Jaskier needed relative quiet for this discussion.

“You too please.” He kept his voice soft, but it didn’t seem to help. Lambert stumbled back slamming into the doorframe, looking like a frightened animal.

_Me too? He’s lying. What the fuck? I need out of this keep._ He ran from the room, thoughts still spiraling.

Jaskier grimaced. “That works too, I suppose,” he huffed. He looked back at Eskel, who had a dazed look in his eyes like he could quite believe what was happening. “I know you said you don’t mind, but are you sure?” Eskel nodded, a dopey smile tugging at his lips. Jaskier swallowed a chuckle. “Well, if you can, I think you better go after your brother. He seemed a little shocked.”

 _Me too._ Jaskier laughed at the shocking difference between the happy witcher staring at him now and the concerned look from just moments ago.

“I can see that, and I really try not to worry you witchers, but it seems I don’t get a choice in the matter. I can’t control who I love after all. Now, go after Lambert before he tries to leave the damn fortress. It crosses his mind, and there’s a blizzard outside.”

“He’s not that big an idiot,” Eskel muttered, pushing himself to his feet anyway.

“We both know otherwise.” Jaskier grinned, thinking of the stories he’d heard about the youngest wolf.

Eskel was still smiling slightly. “Tell your family. I’ll get Lambert.” Then he darted from the room, leaving Jaskier staring after him in shock. His family. That’s what Yennefer called them too. A manic sort of laugh bubbled out of his throat. He had a family and that currently included a Princess, the White Wolf, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Lambert, and Eskel. What a strange wonderful thought.


End file.
